


A Hundred Times Over

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of Twissy AU prompts that I originally posted in Tumblr. Some are E, some are just cute and fluffy and all of them are AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prompt #1: Our mothers want to set us up but all I remember is that you put bubble gum in my hair when I was 7, so I automatically hate you.

The wedding was, as he had expected, boring. John Smith was standing at the side with a glass of champagne in his hand and watched the dancing couples pass by. He had really dreaded coming here but his mother, who was happily chatting with a friend on the other end of the hall, had forced him and it didn't matter that he was a grown man – when Mum expects something of you, you just do it.   
Suddenly he caught sight of a woman that seemed vaguely familiar. She hurried over the dance floor when she tripped over her own high heels and accidentally crashed into one of the dancing couples. John chuckled as he watched her utter a quick apology over the champagne she had spilled on the woman's dress. To his own surprise the woman approached him now.

“Just to give you the heads up. My mother knows your mother and they're trying to set us up,” the woman blurted out as she straightened herself up after the little incident on the dance floor.  
Now that she was standing in front of him, John was sure he had seen her before. Those blue eyes and the cute nose seemed familiar somehow.   
“And so you've come to spill the rest of your champagne on me?” John giggled.  
“Oh God, you've seen that,” she muttered, “High heels and champagne. Not the best of combinations for me.”  
“I'm sorry, do I know you?” he asked her.  
The woman glared at him as if she couldn't believe he actually had to ask.  
“You stuck bubble gum in my hair when I was seven,” she said accusingly.   
“Ohhhh,” John uttered as it finally dawned on him, “Missy! We haven't seen each other since. . .”   
“Since you stuck gum in my hair!” Missy reached out to punch his arm but only managed to nearly topple over again, “You were older and stronger and I didn't stand a chance. I still hate you for that.”  
John raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”  
“Yes! They had to cut my hair. I looked like a little boy on my first day of school.”

As much as he tried not to, John couldn't help but break out into laughter. He remembered the day now. Missy and her mother had visited their house and all John really wanted to do was play with his trains. The last thing he wanted was babysit a little girl that kept complaining about how boring trains were and that insisted they played something more fun. After agreeing to play catch and hide and seek and other childish games that Missy still seemed to find boring, he had had enough of it and decided to put an end to her nagging by putting gum in her hair. He admitted, it wasn't the nicest thing to do but it had worked. Missy and her mother had been gone 20 minutes later and he was free to play with his new toy train. He couldn't believe Missy was still mad about that so many years later.   
“Oh, you think that's amusing, don't you?”  
“Just a little,” he admitted. What he found really amusing was that Missy had turned up at a wedding all those years later, now a stunningly beautiful woman and still holding a grudge and all he could think about was kiss her.   
“Wanna dance?” he asked her casually. The frown on her face said it all. “Come on, it'll make our mothers happy.”  
“Pffft, I don't care that it would make my mother happy. I'm not dancing with you, you. . . gum fiend.”  
“Gum fiend?” John laughed, “Is that all you can come up with?”  
“I'll think of something better. Later. First I'm gonna find the waiter with the champagne.”

 

OOO

John was had been trying to find Missy again the following hour but she was nowhere to be seen until he finally spotted her sitting alone at a table. Her hair was a sweet mess and she had kicked her shoes off under the table.   
“Still not having fun?” he asked as he let himself fall on the chair next to her.  
“Oh. The gum fiend again,” she uttered and didn't seem pleased to see him again.  
“Still haven't found a better insult, I see.”  
“T'is not a very inspirational environment,” she said, apparently having trouble getting the words out.  
John waved for the waiter and told him to bring two cups of coffee, which arrived a few moments later.   
“Here, drink this,” he told her.  
“If I drink this I won't be able to sleep tonight,” she replied, staring at him. She was swaying slightly in her seat.   
John shrugged. “I could think of a lot of things you could do at night where sleeping would just get in the way.”  
Missy tilted her head and stared at him for a long moment with her beautiful, blue eyes. “Are you trying to hit on me? Because, if you are, I should definitely tell you to fuck off.”  
“But you won't do that?” he inquired.  
She took a sip from the coffee and contorted her face in disgust. “I really loved my hair, you know?”  
“I can see why. It's beautiful,” John said earnestly and reached out to fasten one of the loose streaks behind her ear.  
“You are hitting on me,” Missy said grumpily. John could tell she wasn't really still angry with him, but trying very hard to maintain the impression.   
“Okay, here is a suggestion for you: I'll drive you home to make sure you get there safely, I will leave and call you tomorrow with an apology for the gum incident and ask you out properly.”  
“Technically it's tomorrow already,” Missy shrugged.  
“After you've slept,” John told her, “Come on, let's get you home.”

He stood up from his chair and collected her shoes and purse from the ground before extending his other hand to her. Missy took it reluctantly and John was sure that she would've have hadn't she needed something to steady herself with. He walked her out of the building and stopped before the parking space that was laid out with coarse gravel.  
“Better put your shoes back on,” he told her.   
Missy turned around and shot him a dark look that said: Drunk. High heels. Gravel. Think again.  
“Well, I'm not gonna carry you,” John complained but when Missy didn't even move, he groaned, “Alright, wait here.”  
He walked the few metres to where he had parked his car, turned the engine on and drove back to where Missy was waiting patiently at the end of the stairs. He got out of the car again to open the door for her and prayed she would remember all the nice things he was doing for her in the morning.   
Missy had fallen asleep in the passenger seat shortly after she had told him her address and he drove her home in silence. He considered what to do with her once they got there when they finally stopped in front of a large apartment complex. John looked up and hoped she didn't live on the top floor.   
“Hey sleepyhead,” he nudged her gently, “You're home.”  
Missy grunted and just turned her face away from him.  
“Your comfy bed is waiting for you.”  
“No, too far,” she muttered and closed her eyes again.  
“What apartment do you live in?” John asked, still hoping for the best when he heard her say 'top floor'.  
“Argh, alright,” he groaned and got out of the car.  
He paced to the other side of it, opened the door and lifted Missy up in his arms. She was heavier than he had expected – or this sort of thing just looked easier in movies.   
“You should've just drunk the coffee,” he said as he carried her into the hall and to the lift, which luckily opened immediately.   
As soon as they were inside, John sat Missy down but she still clung to him, her head resting on his chest. He pressed the button labeled 30 that lead to the top floor and he braced himself for a long ride up. Missy was so tired by now that she couldn't stand on her own two feet and John needed to hold her. Not that he minded the contact in the least.  
“Where's your key?” he asked quietly.   
“Purse,” Missy uttered in reply and John had trouble understanding it with her lips pressed against his shirt.  
He opened the little bag that hung loosely over her shoulder and realized he had forgotten her shoes in the car. Ah well, he intended to see her again anyway. After a moment he found her key chain and the doors of the lift opened.  
He couldn't tell how he managed to both hold Missy up and open the door, but he did it eventually and gently shuffled her inside. Now that his hands were both free John lifted her up again and carried her to the bedroom, thanking God the door was already wide open. He laid her down on the bed and covered her body with the duvet.   
“Thank you,” she whispered right before she fell back asleep.   
John smiled and quickly bent down to give her a kiss on the forehead.   
“I'm gonna call you tomorrow. And I'm sorry about the gum.”

 

OOO

John had to ring the bell five times before Missy finally answered the door. Her hair was even messier than last night, one half was still kind of in an updo, the other was just dangling everywhere and once again he could understand why she had been so mad they had had to cut it. Her dress from last night was gone and instead she wore what looked like a man's shirt tailored for women and her makeup was smudged all over her face.  
“You look like a raccoon,” John giggled and pointed at her eyes.  
“Maybe, but a cute raccoon,” Missy replied grumpily, “What are you doing here, gum fiend?”  
“You forgot your shoes in the car. I thought I'd return them to you. And I also brought breakfast,” he held up two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag that contained a few croissants.  
She let out a groan and opened the door wider. “Fine. Come in and please tell me you brought aspirin, too, because I'm out.”  
John set the coffee and bag on the kitchen table and reached into the pocket of his trousers, producing the meds a few seconds later.  
Missy shrugged. “Maybe you're not so useless after all.”  
She let herself fall on one of the chairs and pointed to an empty one for him to sit down on.  
“No butter and jam for the croissants?” he raised an eyebrow.  
“I'm out,” Missy replied.  
“Out of aspirin. Our of butter. What are you not out of?” he asked with a smile as he sat down.  
“Nothing. I forgot to go grocery shopping,” she explained.  
“You. . . how do you forget to go shopping? What were you going to eat today?”  
“Nothing. Probably. Or takeout,” she replied with a shrug.  
“Out of the question. Here we have breakfast,” John said and offered her a fresh croissant from the bag, “And tonight I'm going to cook for you.”  
Missy took a bite from the croissant, “You never give up, do you?”  
“I'm sorry about the gum in your hair,” he apologized again, “Will you please forgive me and accept my invitation to dinner?”  
“Fine,” Missy finally said, “If you want to please your mother so desperately, fine.”  
John was taken aback by her answer and leaned back in his chair. “Wait, you think I'm just doing this because our mothers would like it?”  
Missy nodded.  
“I had my eyes on you yesterday before you had even spotted me,” he said angrily, “I saw you and though: wow, look at that cute, tipsy and sightly clumsy woman over there. Wouldn't it be great to talk to her and dance with her and take her out for dinner some time because she just seems marvellous?!”  
Missy broke out into laughter. “You're mad. You know that, right?”  
John shrugged. “Maybe. And I'm still hoping you'll accept my invitation.”  
“I already accepted, you idiot. But you need to pick my up. My car isn't working,” she demanded.  
“Maybe I should have a look at it. I'm not too bad with cars,” John suggested.  
“Nah, no need to. I just forgot to stop at a petrol station.”  
John smiled at Missy and knew from this moment on that he was going to marry her because for her own protection he wouldn't allow her to live alone for another day. 

 

OOO

John picked her up at 6, like he had promised and also brought a canister filled with petrol.  
“Here, that should get you to the next station, but please, don't forget it again,” he explained as he filled her tank.   
“I'll write myself a note,” Missy commented as she stepped into his car, “So, what are we having for dinner? I'm starving!”  
“Whatever you like. I have plenty of ingredients at home. I thought we could cook together,” John smiled at her as he had settled in his car seat.  
Missy broke into laughter. “You don't want to see me at the stove, trust me.”   
“Fine, I'll cook. You watch from a safe distance.”

The car ride to his house in Greenwich took half an hour and Missy gasped they entered the neighbourbood.  
“Gosh, look at those posh houses. Imagine the posers that live here!”   
John cleared his throat. “I live here.”  
Missy turned around to face him. “You live here? Gosh, you must be rich.”  
“I'm not doing too badly,” he gave a slight shrug, “And I needed a place to accommodate my train collection.”  
“God, no, you're not still playing with those boring trains?”  
“I was joking,” he said with a slight smile and pulled into a driveway. John stepped out of the car first to open the door for Missy.   
“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked as he lead her inside the house.  
“I'm a neurosurgeon. And you?”  
Missy glanced around the house. “I'm a ghostwriter. And I've written a few children's books under my own name.”

John lead her around the living room and kitchen before Missy hopped onto the kitchen table and looked at him expectantly.   
“What's for dinner?” she asked, her feet dangling in the air.   
“What would you like to eat?”  
“Spaghetti?”  
“Your wish is my command,” John bowed slightly, laughing and started to fill a pot with water. He felt her eyes on him as he prepared the meal.  
“This house needs a woman's touch though,” Missy remarked after a while, “It's too sterile.”  
“Well, the touch of you already brightens up the room.”  
“I only just got here,” she laughed.  
“You can stay if you want.”  
Missy cocked her head. “Don't say things like that. It sounds like you want me to move in.”  
“Maybe that's exactly what I want,” John countered.   
“You've known me for less than a day.”  
He shrugged. “I need 10 seconds to know if I like a woman.”  
Missy jumped on her feet and walked up to him. She seemed slightly angry and John wasn't exactly sure why. He had done nothing except pay her compliments and they had been sincere.  
“You don't know me,” she said accusingly, “I can be a real pain in the ass. I am clumsy, I am forgetful. You wouldn't last a month with me and then you'd get mad because I forgot to pick up your suit from the cleaners or locked myself out the third day in a row or accidentally set the dog on fire.”  
“You set a dog on fire?”  
“No, that was an exaggeration. But it's not too far fetched. In the end I always scare them away with something.”  
John shook his head. “That's not gonna happen, Missy. I was married once and when I met her I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with her. When she died I thought such a thing would never happen to me again,” he reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, “And then you showed up yesterday and I though: there is my second chance. Missy, I would ask you to marry me on the spot because that's how sure I am it would last.”  
Missy chuckled. “You're completely mad. We haven't even kissed.”  
“I kissed you on the forehead yesterday.”  
“Well, I don't remember that so I guess I was drunk and asleep and that doesn't count.”  
“Fair enough. Wanna try again?” he asked.  
“Try what?”

John didn't reply. Instead, he pulled her closer by her hand and bent down to press a kiss to her lips. He had aimed for a short peck, but Missy wouldn't let go of him. The hand he wasn't holding wandered up his neck and grabbed his hair, keeping him in place. He gasped for air when she finally let go of him.  
“Phew, well, I'll leave you that: you do know how to kiss a girl,” she said, slightly out of breath, but grabbed his shirt anyway and pulled him closer again.   
He pushed her back against the counter, pinning her down with the weight of his own body. He let his hands wander over her back, covering her neck with kisses while his body began to react to the touch.  
“I'm sorry, I'm not the type for sex on the first date,” John whispered, forcing himself to stop kissing her.  
“Technically,” Missy said short-winded as she pushed his head down her cleavage, “If you count the attempt of our mothers trying to set us up yesterday, this is the third.”  
John looked up. “What was the second?”  
“Breakfast?”  
“Oh, right,” he pressed a short kiss to her lips, “I haven't shown you the bedroom.”

Their clothes were already gone halfway to the bedroom and Missy dragged John onto the bed, their lips never parting for more than a few seconds. John had only had a one night stand or two ever since the death of his wife but a woman he had picked up because he had been lonely was nothing compared to this. John had picked Missy because she was marvellous and beautiful and touching her naked body felt like exploring a whole new universe. He covered her body with kisses and felt her moan and shiver beneath him as his own anticipation grew. Missy gasped as his tongue slipped into her fold and she reached out to touch his hair, pushing his head down. She was wet for him already and he wanted nothing more to be inside her. It was been so long, too long since he had loved a woman.   
John sat up suddenly and reached for his nightstand, pulling a package of condoms from the drawer. Missy followed his example and sat up next to him, leaning in to nibble and kiss his ear, when suddenly he ceased to respond.  
“What's wrong?” she asked.  
“I don't know. There seems to be something wrong with the condoms,” he said and held one up against the light. “Looks like someone has not so subtly taken a needle to them.”  
Missy took the broken condoms from his hand and threw them away. “It's alright. I'm on the pill.”  
She pulled him down again and parted her legs, indicating she was ready for him. Against his better judgement he thrust inside her, a low moan escaping his lips. Missy wrapped her legs around his waist, groaning as he moved faster. John felt her tighten around him and knew he wouldn't last long. The tension was driving him insane already and he couldn't will himself to stop. Missy arched her back up, pressing her pelvis against his and John heard her whimper as she came. John meant to pull out, he really did, but when he felt his own orgasm sneaking up on him he couldn't will himself. He came inside her, breathing heavily and let himself fall onto the pillow next to her.   
“Kissing isn't the only thing you're good at,” Missy smiled, still panting and pressed a peck to his cheek.  
John winkled his nose as he suddenly noticed a strange smell. “Do you smell that?”  
“Smell what?”  
“Like. . . oh shit!” John jumped out of bed and only grabbed his underwear, putting it on as he hopped towards the kitchen. He reached it the second the smoke detectors went off. They had forgotten about the boiling water on the stove that had vaporized a long time ago, leaving the pot smoldering.   
“Dammit!” he cursed as he removed the blackened pot with an oven mitten.   
Missy entered the kitchen, dressed in her panties and his shirt.  
“Oh no,” she uttered, “Don't take this the wrong way, but. . . those things happen to me all the time. Just blame it on me. I'm used to it.”  
She walked over to the windows and opened them. The smoke lifted slowly.  
“Do you have cereal?” she asked.  
“Yeah, why?”  
“We can eat that in the bedroom until the air is breathable again,” Missy suggested.

 

OOO

A few weeks later John was surprised to hear his cell phone ring at work and Missy asked to see him on his lunch break. They already had a date for the evening, but maybe she was missing him too much to wait a few hours longer. It wasn't the first time they had done it in his office.  
Missy stormed into his office with wild hair and completely out of breath.  
John giggled. “What happened to you?”  
“I took the bike,” she simply said and started pacing the room.  
“You? The bike? Why?”  
“Because I forgot to stop by the petrol station yesterday and I needed to see you,” she said urgently and avoided his gaze.  
“What's wrong, honey? Do you want to sit down?”  
“No,” Missy shook her head, “I'd rather pace. I can use all the exercise I can get, seeing how fat I'll be getting soon.”  
John got up from his chair and approached Missy, resting his arms on her shoulders. “Honey, stop speaking in riddles. What's wrong?”  
“I'm pregnant.”  
It took him a moment to realize what she had said. And another to let it sink in.  
“But. . .”  
“No but. I'm pregnant,” she said desperately.  
“But I bought new condoms after that time. And they were fine,” he defended himself.  
“Well, one time was enough apparently.”  
“But you said you were on the pill.”  
Missy reached out to punch his shoulder. “You know me!” she started yelling at him, “You know I forget things, you should've known I forget to take it.”  
“Calm down, Missy,” he said quietly, “Why don't you sit down and take a deep breath.”  
John shuffled her to a chair and she sat down reluctantly. Both remained silent for a while, until Missy spoke again, her voice sounding small and insecure: “What are you thinking?”  
“I, uhm,” he spluttered, “I'm thinking you should move in with me.”  
“What?”  
“I've been waiting for the right moment to bring it up. We basically spent all of our free time together anyway.”  
Missy stared at him for a moment.   
“Okay,” she finally said.  
John approached her and kissed her forehead. “Take a cab home and pack your bags. But no heavy lifting, okay?”  
“Alright,” Missy sighed and was about to leave his office when she suddenly turned back around. “Does your mum have a key to your house by any chance?”  
“Yes, why?”  
“Something tells me she won't be too surprised she's having a grandkid.”  
John frowned. “You're not saying?”  
Missy shrugged. “Wouldn't put it past them, the old meddlers.”

 

OOO

Four years later. . .

John was waiting at the altar, impatiently tapping his foot. Missy was late, but what had he expected? She had probably had the driver stop at McDonalds or convinced him the fuel was enough to take them to the church, which of course wasn't.   
“Where are they?” he heard his mother hiss from the front pew. She was holding his son, gently rocking him to keep him calm.  
“I have no idea,” John whispered back.  
“Could it be. . . that she's forgotten that the wedding is today?”  
“Mum, I don't think even Missy would forget her wedding day.”

Finally, after he had waited for more than half an hour and the guests had already become worried, the church door burst open and the string quartet started playing as Missy slowly limped down the aisle, preceded by their daughter Mairi. When John looked more closely he realized Missy was only wearing one shoe.   
“What happened?” John asked her in a low voice when she had reached the altar.  
“I'll explain later.”

The pastor performed the ceremony without interruption or further delay. He handed them their rings and John went first, taking Missy's hand, when she suddenly seemed to notice something.  
“Wait, those aren't our rings,” she whispered.  
“Just go with it. I'll explain later.”  
“But my mother was in charge of the rings.”  
“Exactly,” John groaned between his teeth and he could see Missy mouth a silent oops.

After a moment, John cleared his throat.   
“Missy, when you stumbled into my life four years ago I knew exactly that we would end up on front of an altar sooner or later. I knew I wouldn't stop chasing you until you said yes. Lucky for me, it was sooner rather than later. You are a wonderful woman and a wonderful mother and I am lucky to call you my wife from now on.”  
He slipped the borrowed ring on her finger that was much too big for her. He pretended to kiss her on the cheek as he whispered. “Please don't lose it.”  
Missy chuckled as the pastor handed her the other ring.   
“John, I will probably never forget the day you stuck bubble gum in my hair, but I can honestly say now that I forgive you for that. And for knocking me up. Twice. Okay, the second was actually wanted. . .”

John heard the pastor utter a low gasp, along with several of the wedding guests.  
“What I meant to say is that I love you and not only because you remind me to stop by the petrol station and still put a canister of gas in my trunk so I always get home safely. You're the best husband I could ever wish for.”  
John reached for her face and kissed her as the crowd cheered and the pastor, though still slightly miffed, pronounced them husband and wife. Missy kicked off her remaining shoe before they walked down the isle to the outside.  
“So, care to explain why those aren't our rings?” she asked.  
“Because your mother forgot to bring ours. And why were you late?”  
Missy looked at him apologetically. “I kind of forgot our daughter at home. . .”  
John broke into laughter. “I pray to God she takes me after.”  
“Yeah, me too,” Missy agreed, “I also think we need to find another pastor for the baptism of the wee one.”  
“I think so, too,” John agreed, leading Missy out of the church. He made a mental note to thank their mothers later in his speech, because he was fairly certain that without them their meeting, their children and the wedding would never have happened.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompt #2: I just moved in across the hall and my place is 100% haunted, can I stay with you?

John Smith had already been asleep and dreaming peacefully when a brutal knock on the door had awoken him again. He didn't even bother putting his clothes back on. Whoever was standing outside his door right now, he would send them away and go back to bed. When he had finally reached the front door and opened it, he found a woman standing in front of it. She didn't even wait for an invitation but immediately pushed past his sleepy self and stepped inside.  
“Hey, can I crash here for the night?” she asked immediately.  
John shook his head sleepily, hoping he'd just wake up and realize this was all but a dream.  
“I'm sorry, but, who are you?” he asked when he was certain he wasn't imagining her.   
“I'm Missy and I just moved in next door and I can't sleep there. The place is totally haunted.”  
“What?” he stared at her in disbelief. Who was this lunatic?  
“Are you daft? I said I just moved in next door and the place is haunted. I can't stay there.”  
John, who was finally starting to wake up, took a closer look at Missy. She was wearing a flowery bathrobe, her long, dark hair was braided back and she had an insufferable look on her face that told him she believed him to be absolutely stupid.   
“So, can I?”  
“Can you what?”  
“Well, crash here, obviously. I'm not going back to my place, that's for sure,” she told him impatiently.   
John exhaled slowly and started scratching his head. Obviously the easiest way for him to go back to bed was probably to just say yes. But then he had this lunatic on his hands.  
“Alright,” he finally agreed, “I'll get a blanket and pillows for the sofa.”  
“Oh, no, it's okay. I'll take the bed,” Missy said and already headed for the bedroom. Before John could stop her, she was already in his bed and had wrapped the duvet around herself.  
“Wow, you bed is so comfy,” he exclaimed.   
“Yeah, it sure is,” he muttered and went to the cupboard where he stored a few spare blankets and pillows.   
“What are you doing?” she asked him, “The bed is big enough for two. Get in!”  
“Uhm, I'd rather take the sofa,” he replied insecurely.   
“Don't be silly. I won't allow that. Now get your sexy ass down here.”  
John raised an eyebrow. “And you want me to share a bed with you after that comment?”  
Missy rolled her eyes at him and groaned. “Well, if it makes you feel better, you can compliment my breasts.”  
She attempted to open her bathrobe, but John stopped her. “No, no, that. . . uhm, won't be necessary.”  
“Fine. Now come to bed. I'm tired,” she patted the empty space beside her.  
Reluctantly John crawled in bed next to her and switched off the light. Just as he thought he was falling back asleep, he felt Missy against his back and her hand on his hips.  
“Missy, what are you doing?”  
“I'm scared of the ghosts,” she replied in a tone that suggested he should have guessed that already, “Cuddling comforts me. Just go with it.”  
“Do you always cuddle up to strangers?” he asked.  
“Don't be silly. Only the ones I find sexy.”  
“Let me guess. You're not really scared but saw an opportunity and grabbed it.”  
“Mh, maybe,” Missy admitted.  
“And could it be that your place isn't really haunted as you say?”  
“Shhh, sleep now,” he told him and rested her head against his back, “Good night.”  
“Good night, crazy lady.”


	3. Chapter 3

Prompt #3: You live across the hall and hide in my apartment when you want to avoid your one night stands 

John groaned when his door bell rang late at night because he knew it could only mean one thing. He considered pretending to not be home, which wouldn't work because you could see the lights through the spyhole. He paused the movie he had been watching and trudged towards the door. When he opened it he saw his neighbour Missy standing in front of him.  
“Really? Another one?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.  
“It's not my fault,” Missy defended herself as she ran inside and quickly closed the door behind her, “I swear, the lighting in those pubs is horrible. They're doing that on purpose, so when you take a guy home with you – bam! - unpleasant surprise.”  
“Have you ever considered not taking guys home with you?” John asked, his eyebrows raised, “I mean, it would definitely save you the way over to my apartment and the time you have to spend watching my boring movies.”  
Missy shrugged her shoulders.   
“Alright, come on in. Shall I make popcorn?” he asked and was already on his way to the kitchen.   
“You know the answer,” Missy replied, letting herself fall unto his couch. 

John returned to the living room a few minutes later with a huge bowl of popcorn that he placed in front of her. He didn't really like popcorn that much, but he knew she loved it. And when he had realized she wasn't going to stop coming over to hide from her one night stands, he had added microwave popcorn to his weekly shopping list.   
“Are we really going to watch James Bond again?” she asked, holding up the case.  
“We haven't seen that, actually,” he replied while opening two bottled of beer and handing one to Missy. She accepted it with a smile. “I only just got it.”  
“Oh. Okay.”  
“Maybe you could give me a list of your favourites so I can get those and we can watch them when you decide to invade my apartment again after you've slept with a stranger that you realized you found appalling,” John said with a hint of resentment in his tone.  
“Oh, I don't sleep with them,” Missy said, “I mean, I would. But as you said – appalling.”  
John began to chuckle. “So every other day you just take a stranger home with you and leave him alone in your apartment to hang out with me cause you realized he's not your type? And when you think he must have gotten tired of waiting for you and left you go back to your place?”  
Missy nodded. “Yep. That's pretty much it.”  
“I'm sorry, I don't get it. Why don't you just find a guy you know you like instead of dubious strangers?”  
She inhaled sharply. “Because the guy I like doesn't seem to get the hint.”  
John shrugged. “Well, men can be a bit stupid in that area. Maybe you should make your intentions clear?”  
“Really? You think I should do that?” Missy eyes had suddenly widened and a smile was spreading across her face.  
“Yeah, why n-” John wasn't able to finish his sentence because Missy had suddenly grabbed his head with both her hands and kissed him.   
“There! Clear enough?” she asked him.  
“Wait, you were talking about me? This, the whole time, you. . . you. . .” he stammered. He had been right. He really had been stupid not to realize it earlier.  
“Yes,” she smiled at him. “Although I do not like your taste in movies, the rest,” she ended her sentence with a wink.   
“Uhm, so, erm, would you like to hang out. . . some. . . time?”  
“We're already doing that. Although a different movie next time would be nice,” Missy commented, “I'll give you that list tomorrow.”  
“So, you're gonna stay?” John asked, still a bit confused about this night's development.  
“Yeah, James Bond is still better than dealing with the guy in my apartment,” she explained and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Press play already!”


	4. Chapter 4

Prompt #4: Accidentally fell asleep on each other on the train

Missy cursed under her breath as she entered the last car of the train. Everywhere was full and she regretted not taking the probably emptier train that took 9 hours to get from London to Glasgow. Now she was facing 5 hours crammed into a tiny space next to a stranger that probably smelled and talked to himself with her suitcase crushing her feet the entire time. She was so tired, all she really wanted to do was sit down and close her eyes.   
The she finally spotted it – an empty seat next to a silver fox whose head was leaned against the window with his eyes closed. He seemed as desperate for sleep as she was, he would surely not bother her.   
“Excuse me,” she said and put on a bright smile. The silver fox took a moment to realize he was the one being spoken to. “Sorry, but, is this seat taken? Everywhere else seems full.”  
“Oh, yes, sure. I mean no, it's not taken. Let me just,” he got up to move his suitcase from the legroom so Missy could sit down.  
“Thank you,” she said and positioned her own luggage on the corridor, “Looks like a long trip for you, too. I have to visit my family in Glasgow and I had half a mind to leave the train and go back home when I saw the amount of people.”  
“Yeah, it does ruin the day a bit,” he nodded, “I'm John, by the way. And I'm from Glasgow, too.”  
“I'm Missy and I am very glad to have left Glasgow behind. I live in London now.”  
John sighed. “London. I wish I could live here. I've only been here on a conference for the last week.”  
Missy shrugged. “Why don't you just move here?”  
“Becaaaause,” he dragged the word a little too much, “I'm going back to get married. Maybe.”  
“Well, if you have to add a maybe then you probably shouldn't,” she snorted.  
John turned around and shot her a dark look. “None of your business.”  
“You're right,” Missy raised her hands, “None of my business. But you do know I'm right.”  
He remained silent for a long while and Missy thought he had probably fallen back asleep.  
“I was in London for a week and I didn't miss her,” John said suddenly, “She called me and I didn't want to answer the phone because I just wasn't missing her like that.”  
“How long have you been together?” she inquired.  
“About 6 years. I guess. I don't know. It was on and off for some time,” he explained to her.  
“Do you love her?”  
“We have a house and a dog back in Glasgow. It's a very nice house.”  
“So you love the house and a dog,” Missy concluded, “But not her. And you know you can have both in London, right?”  
John chuckled. “Wanna come to the wedding and object? It'll get you out of your family reunion and me out of having to marry her.”  
“Hey,” Missy reached out to nudge him, “don't you dare to pass this on to me. Besides, what reasons would I have to object?”  
“Well, you could say that you're in love with me and tell a fabulous tale about how we met in London and had hot sex in the hotel room. That might make the bride change her mind,” John shrugged.  
“Or I could say I found out I was pregnant after very lousy sex in the hotel room in London,” Missy suggested.  
“No one would believe that kind of lie. Lousy sex? Nah, we need to find a better excuse.”  
Missy took a deep breath. “We don't have to do anything and as tempting as it sounds to not have to go to my family reunion and instead crash a wedding – this is your mess. You need to sort it out.”   
“I still think we would have had awesome pretend sex in London,” John mused.  
Missy laughed. “I just love the way you talk to strangers on a train. Would you have said the same thing to the old lady over there?”  
She pointed to a woman in her 70s or 80s who never looked up from her knitting.  
“Absolutely. Look at her. She's gorgeous. And those talented fingers.”  
“You're absolutely mental!” Missy said and smiled at him and they both giggled for a moment. 

 

OOO

When the train arrived in Glasgow hours later, Missy had fallen asleep on his shoulder and John nudged her gently.  
“Home, sweet home,” he whispered.  
Missy stretched her arms and legs and realized she didn't feel rested at all.  
“Wow, your shoulder really is a lousy pillow,” she commented and started to get up.  
“Your head isn't much better. Sorry, fell asleep on you, too.”  
Missy shrugged her shoulders. “Have you at least made your mind up?”  
John stared at her for a moment. “Not really, no.”

They both stepped of the train and realized that they were heading into two different directions now and the time had come to say goodbye.  
“Well, if you do make up your mind and decide not to marry her, I'm heading back to London Tuesday morning at 9. You can come with me and we can continue the debate on whether or whether not we'd have awesome pretend sex.”  
John smiled back at her. “Alright. We'll see. It would totally be awesome pretend sex though!” he called after her as she walked away, dragging her suitcase behind her.

 

OOO

When Missy arrived at the train station a few minutes before 9 on Tuesday morning, she saw John waiting for her with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.


	5. Chapter 5

Prompt #5: Eating in the same diner every morning and the waitress ALWAYS mixes up our orders so why dont we just sit at the same table to save her the trouble 

"Excuse me, I believe those are my pancakes," John Smith looked up from his morning paper to a woman who was holding a plate full of ham and eggs.  
"Oh no, not again," he muttered and quickly threw his paper aside to hand the woman her own plate, "I can't believe the waitress mixed it up again."  
"Yeah, third time this week. Bummer, huh?" the woman sat down next to him at his table and John leaned back in surprise.  
"What are you doing?" he asked her.  
“Well, since she keeps mixing up our orders I thought we should just start sitting together to save her the trouble. I'm Missy by the way,” the woman extended her hand and John shook it reluctantly.  
“Uhm, good idea, but I think I'd rather,” John stared at Missy as he spoke and realized that she was the type of woman who wouldn't take no for an answer. “Yeah, why not?”  
Missy took a sip from her coffee. “So, what's your name?”  
“John. John Smith.”  
“Like for real?” Missy asked with raised eyebrows.  
“Yes, for real,” he answered a bit confused.  
“A bit unoriginal.”  
“Tell that to my parents,” he said and began to eat his ham and eggs. Missy followed his example and started on her own pancakes.  
After a moment of awkward silence John reached for his newspaper.  
“Mind if I take the section you've already read?” Missy asked.  
“Not at all,” he replied and handed over half of his newspaper.  
“Mh, that could be the start of a nice tradition,” she mused.  
John looked at her for a moment. He usually preferred to eat alone but the woman in front of him seemed nice enough, so he smiled at her and nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

Prompt#6: You are a drunk patient disturbing my work, now stop. 

Missy groaned and she compared the length of her straw to those of the other doctors.   
“Ha!” her colleague laughed, “Looks like you just got yourself a rude, drunk guy.”  
“Fine,” Missy spat, “But just so you know: I think you're all behaving like 5-year-olds. This is an ER, not a shopping centre. You can't always pick the patients you want to treat and pass the others on to me.”  
“I can,” the other doctor shrugged, “as long as you keep drawing the short straw.”

Missy rolled her eyes one last time and headed towards her office to find a medical assistant slamming the door shut behind her.  
“Hey, what happened?” she asked her.  
The woman groaned. “This guy's insufferable. He's completely hammered. And rude. He told me to fuck off when tried to take a look at his wound.”  
“What's the matter with him?” Missy asked the nurse and at the same time consulted his file.  
“A couple of his buddies brought him in. Apparently a typical case of a night out drinking gone wrong. He fell and hit his head. I would have taken a look, but he wouldn't let me.”  
“John Smith, huh?” Missy asked, reading from his file, “How I hate unoriginal parents.”

Missy opened the door to the office and stepped inside. She found John Smith sitting on the stretcher, holding a bloody cloth to one side of his forehead. He looked around angrily and was swaying even in a sitting position. No wonder no one had wanted to treat him.  
“John Smith, I'm Dr Missy Saxon. I'm going to have to take a look at your wound,” she said as she approached him and was already prepared to fight to take the rag from him.   
To her own surprise John Smith stared at her for a long time and then started grinning at her.   
“But of course, Dr Saxon. Shall I take my clothes off?” he slurred. He had thrown the piece of cloth away and started to unbutton his shirt.  
“Uhm, there will be no need for that, Mr Smith. Just your head,” Missy carefully stepped closer. She didn't even have to look at the wound for very long to know that he would need a few stitches. Just as she was trying to determine how many, she heard her patient make a sniffing sound.  
“Is everything alright?” Missy asked.  
“You smell very, very nice,” he muttered. She took a step back.   
“Please, refrain from saying things like that,” she told him, “You will need three stitches, but before that we need to make sure you don't have a concussion and your skull isn't fractured.”  
“If you say so. You do smell very nice though.”  
“Mr Smith,” Missy cleared her throat, “Do you remember how you came by this wound? Did you pass out after the fall?”  
“What perfume is that?”  
“Please, just answer the questions.”  
“Yes, I remember. And no, didn't pass out,” he shook his head wildly, “Can't promise the answers will be the same tomorrow.”  
The patient tried to stand up and although Missy wasn't sure what he was planning to do, he pushed him back unto the stretcher. Not that he could've walked very far anyway.  
“Careful,” John reminded her.   
“Are you feeling nauseous? Dizzy?” Missy asked and knew it was a pointless question. In his state she was lucky if he didn't vomit somewhere or passed out on the stretcher.  
John Smith raised an eyebrow.   
“What do you think?” he slurred.  
“Nevermind,” she replied and walked to the nearest corner to fetch a wheelchair, “We need to x-ray your skull to determine if there's a fracture. If not you will receive your stitches and then you're free to go home.”  
“What's the wheelchair for? Me?” he looked offended all of a sudden, “I injured my head, not my legs.”  
Missy took a step back and crossed her arms. “Fine. Walk.”  
She watched John Smith try to stand up, which only worked because he was holding onto the stretcher and the nearby cabinet to keep him from staggering around the place. Missy shot him an inquiring look.  
“Okay, okay,” John raised his hands as a surrendering gesture but quickly put them down again to steady himself on the cabinet again, “Wheelchair it is.”  
“I'll call for the medical assistant. She will accompany you to radiology and back here to get your stitches.”  
“Nope. I don't want her.”  
“I can find a male nurse if it makes you feel more comfortable,” Missy suggested.  
“No, I want you,” John pointed at her, “You take me there. The others don't smell half as nice.”  
“Fine, I'll take you there if you stop flirting with me. Or whatever it is that you're trying to do.”  
“I can't promise you that,” he replied with an attempted smirk.

The x-rays showed no results and Missy wheeled him back into the office to start sterilizing the wound.   
“Do you know if your tetanus vaccination is up to date?” she asked him.  
“In general I probably know. Right now – no idea,” John replied, “I can't think straight if you keep touching me.”  
“I told you to stop flirting with me or I'll have to go and find you another doctor,” Missy threatened. She prepared a pillow to keep his head on a higher level than the rest of his body and pushed him down to start on the stitches.   
“Hey, it's not my fault your touch is so arousing,” he shrugged, pointing to his crotch that showed a not so subtle bulge.   
Missy groaned and swore to herself that when he came back to have the stitches taken out she would make him feel very, very uncomfortable about tonight. Missy also decided to skip the anesthesia. John Smith was so inebriated, the pain wouldn't be too bad. Probably. And if it was, he deserved it.

When Missy was done stitching the wound, she realized that John Smith had fallen asleep. She nudged him gently at first and when he didn't respond, resorted to shaking him. It didn't work. He was fast asleep. She weighed her options for a moment and decided to just roll the stretcher into one of the hospital rooms and have him sleep if off.  
“What happened to your patient?” one of the nurses asked when she left the room.   
“Fell asleep. When he wakes up, give him this,” Missy handed her a note that told John Smith to come in to have his stitches removed five days from now, “I'm going home.”

 

OOO

 

There was a knock on her door and Missy immediately knew that this could be no other than John Smith who had come to have his stitches removed.  
He entered the room carefully and was apparently hiding something behind his back.  
“Come on in,” Missy said with a slightly malicious smile. She needed only to look at him to tell he was feeling extremely sorry and ashamed for what had happened the week before.  
“Congratulations,” she said.  
The looked at her in confusion. “For what?”  
“You had the courage to come back.”  
“You gave me an appointment.”  
“Any doctor could have removed the stitches,” she shrugged.  
“Well, I wanted to apologize. I guess.”  
Missy leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. She wasn't going to make this easy for him.  
“For saying you smell good. Well, not exactly for the statement itself because it was probably true. But for having said it in my state in this environment. That was uncalled for. I also brought you a box of chocolates so the apology doesn't feel lonely.”  
John Smith set the box down in her desk.  
“And?”  
“And what?”  
“What about the rest?”  
“I'm also sorry I feel asleep during the treatment.”  
“And?”  
“Did I snore?” John frowned.  
“No. And?”  
His eyes widened in horror. “Oh God, is there more I should be sorry for?”  
Missy cleared her throat. “You said you couldn't think straight because my touch was arousing. Now, I didn't do a proper examination on it but I'd say you didn't lie about that.”  
His face turned a violent shade of red and he covered it with both his hands.  
“Oh God, I'm so sorry. I've embarrassed you. I behaved terribly. Please, let me make it up to you. Let me buy you a coffee to go with the chocolates.”  
“Ah,” Missy raised her index finger, “There's the flirting again.”  
“Sorry.”  
She broke into laughter. “No, it's fine. You can buy me coffee and after that consider the incident forgotten. But first we need to take care of those stitches.”


	7. Chapter 7

Prompt #7: I accidentally flooded my apartment, can I stay with you?

It was already late at night, later than Missy had intended to go to bed, when she finally decided to switch off the telly and go to sleep. She changed into her negligee, although she had no idea why she didn't just wear any old shirt since there was no man around who could see her anyway. But the negligee made her feel sexy and confident and just maybe the hot mail man would ring her door bell early in the morning. Oh, how she wished there was a man in her life. Missy thought she had engaged in her daydream about the mail man a little too much when she actually thought she could hear the door bell ring. When it rang a second time she knew it was for real. Missy stared at the clock and groaned. Who would dare visit her at 2 am when everyone in the world was asleep?  
She quickly covered herself in her bathrobe to open the door and find her neighbour, Mr Smith, standing in front of her. He wore an apologetic smile.  
“Hi, I'm sorry to disturb you so late. I didn't wake you, did?”  
Missy saw his gaze wander to her negligee and quickly tied her bathrobe with the sash.   
“No, I was just about to go to bed. Can I help you with anything?” she asked more out of politeness. What she really wanted was for Mr Smith to stop gawking and go back to his own apartment.   
“Well, the thing is. . . I accidentally flooded my apartment. I tried to repair the pipe myself, but I'm useless,” he pointed at his wet and dirty clothes, “A team came in just now and they said it's going to take all night but I have an appointment in the morning.”  
When he stopped Missy began to raise her eyebrows as the obvious next question dawned on her.  
“Would you be willing to let me stay on your couch for the night?” Mr Smith asked with big, grey eyes that wouldn't take no for an answer.  
Missy considered it for a moment. She hardly knew the man, not even his first name. Sure, he had been her neighbour for quite a few years but except for the occasional meetings at the letter box and superficial small talk they hadn't exchanged a word. Then again, he looked rather lost and it would be the nice thing to do to just let him have the couch for a night.   
“Alright, come on,” she stepped aside to let him enter.  
“Thank you, I'm really grateful,” he walked into her living room and took a good look around, obviously admiring her furniture, “I'm John, by the way.”  
“Missy,” she replied and just stood there, watching him, waiting for him to tell her to go to sleep and leave him alone, which luckily he did.  
“If you don't mind, I'll go right to sleep. I had a long day.”  
John was about to let himself fall unto her big, white couch when Missy suddenly started screaming.  
“Take those clothes off! Right now!”  
He stopped in his movements, obviously taken aback by her tone and the thing she had said.  
“Excuse me?” John asked carefully.  
“Your clothes are dirty. You can't wear them on the couch.”  
“Oh, I'm sorry. You're right,” he spluttered, looking down at his soiled pants.   
Missy thought about giving him some privacy while he undressed, but when he had already taken his shirt of, she found it hard not to look. John Smith wasn't muscular but still very well built and his naked torso stirred something inside of Missy. It really had been a while since she has had a naked man in her apartment.   
John was reluctant to take his pants off when he caught Missy staring.   
“I don't want to keep you up,” he said nervously, “You can go to bed if you want to. I'll be alright. And thanks again for letting me stay.”  
A sheepish smile formed on her face when an idea came to her mind.  
“I'll just get you a blanket and pillow,” she said and disappeared into her bedroom where she stripped out of her bathrobe and went to grab the spare bedding.

Dressed only in her black lace negligee Missy walked back into the living room and her plan had the desired effect. John's eyes were suddenly glued to her. She could have just laid the bedding down on the sofa but instead she walked up to John and handed it over.  
“Better wrap yourself in those,” she said, “My living room can get very cold at night. If it gets unbearable, feel free to join me in the bedroom.”  
To be perfectly honest, seducing her neighbour hadn't really been part of the plan, but he was hot and single and Missy had been starved for the touch of a man for quite some time.  
She heard John gulp, but he was still too baffled to get a word out.  
“On second thought,” Missy hummed, “Why don't we discard the idea of the couch immediately?”  
“Are you. . .,” he spluttered, “implying what I think. . . you're implying?”  
Missy threw the bedding aside and reached for John's belt, pulling him closer until their hips touched. He looked like a frightened deer.   
“No need to be scared, John. I don't bite. . . hard,” she shrugged, “Well, maybe I do. But you'll have to find this one out on your own.”  
She stood up on her toes and touched his lips gently at first and it was John who took the next step and pushed his tongue hungrily into her mouth. Missy felt his hands on her. One on her hip, pushing her softly against his groin. The other buried deep in her hair. Then he gently pulled away from the kiss, his eyes still fixed on her.  
“I really just wanted to crash on your couch,” John whispered.  
“Congratulations. You've just been upgraded to bedroom,” she replied with a cheeky grin, grabbing his belt again and dragging him along after her into the bedroom.   
As soon as they had closed the door behind them, Missy pushed him against the wall, pinning him down with the weight of her body. They kissed again, more fiercely this time, their tongues clumsily fighting for domination. His hands were all over her again, pushing up the negligee to feel the skin beneath it and she pressed her thigh against his crotch, rubbing it gently when he began to moan into her mouth.  
“Time to get you out of those trousers,” she commented and stared down at the obvious bulge, “Here, let me help you with that.”  
Missy sank to her knees and deliberately took her time opening his belt and zip. A smile spread on her face as she pulled down his underpants.  
“Oh, John, had I known that I would have invited you over a long time ago,” she looked up to see him blush before she went back to concentrate on his erection in front of her face.   
Missy let her tongue trail along his shaft and she could hear his head fall back against the wooden door. Her nails dug into the skin of his ass and John uttered a wincing sound as she wrapped her moist lips around just the tip, sucking it lightly. From the moans escaping his mouth Missy could tell it had been a while since he had been touched by a woman. The thought of pleasuring him with her mouth only to stop right before he came aroused her but she was determined to get what she wanted, too. Oh, poor John, this was going to be a long night.   
She let him guide her head, taking the full length of him now and letting it glide in and out of her mouth. He moaned with please and pushed her head faster. Missy realized he wasn't going to last much longer at this pace, so she pulled away, running her fingers over the insides of his thighs and admiring her work. He was fully erect now, begging to be inside her, but he would have to wait, no matter how John's eyes pleaded with her for release. Missy bent forward to kiss the tip and circled her tongue over it teasingly for a while before sucking him again, increasing the pressure of her lips this time.  
John grunted. “God, you're doing this on purpose,” he finally realized.  
Missy stopped to face him, her features a mask of innocence. “Doing what on purpose, love?”  
She closed her lips around his erection without breaking the eye contact, watching his reaction. He leaned his head back again, groping her hair when she changed the speed again and began using her tongue as well. Missy heard him mutter under his panting breath and pulled away again. Oh, this was delightful. She could do this for hours until he was on his knees, begging.   
“You're a fiend,” he moaned, “Keep teasing me and I'm just going to take you.”  
“I was actually counting on that,” she hummed.  
Apparently John had only been waiting for these words. He swept her up from her kneeling position and pushed his lips roughly onto hers. He relieved her of her nightgown in one swift move and pushed her towards the bed, falling down on top of her, his erection excitingly pressing against her.   
“Do it, John Smith,” Missy demanded, “Take me. I'm so ready for you.”  
And she was, the tingling already having become unbearable when she had sucked him and now she was craving for him to be inside her.  
“Like I'm going to make it easy for you now. Oh no, there's a revenge coming,” he warned her just before he started covering her stomach in kisses, slowly moving down. She pushed up her pelvis, but he didn't speed up the process. His movements were painfully slow until he finally reached her clit, delicately slipping his tongue between her folds. Missy moaned at the sensation of his hot, wet tongue and tried grinding her hips against it, but John pulled away.  
“Oh for God's sake,” she groaned impatiently, “You've got an appointment in the morning. Now fuck me already or we won't be done by the time you have to get up!”   
John crawled back up to face her and grinned widely. “Who's begging now?”  
He bent down to her neck to kiss it, covering every inch of her skin with his lips as he moved down to her breasts. Although Missy loved to tease, she hated being on the receiving end of it. She reached out to grab his cock, squeezing and rubbing it slightly.  
“Enough with the begging,” she demanded.   
“Your wish is my command,” John smiled at her and positioned his cock before her entrance, carefully pushing inside.  
A low moan escaped her mouth as his hot erection finally filled her up and they were trying to find a rhythm to suit them both. She crossed her legs over his lower back to allow him in deeper as he thrust inside her, panting into her ear. Missy cursed herself for not having invited him to her place earlier. That could have saved her a few years of sexual frustration. She lifted her pelvis to meet his rhythm, already feeling the orgasm build up inside her. It came over her in waves of sweet, crushing relief and she couldn't keep from whimpering as his thrusts continued and only moments later he came inside her, a guttural moan stuck in his throat. John lifted himself up and fell back into the pillows next to her, spent and panting from the exercise.   
“I'll have to flood my apartment more often,” he concluded after a while.  
“Yes, please, do that,” Missy agreed, resting her head against his chest, “Or just come over whenever.”  
She glanced over to her alarm clock that showed it was almost half past four.  
“Sorry, didn't think it was going to take so long.”  
“I'll just reschedule the appointment,” John gave a slight shrug, “I don't think I'll be in a hurry to leave in the morning.”  
Missy saw him wink at her before he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Oh yeah, seducing her neighbour had never been her plan, but it had turned out to be the best stupid idea in years.


End file.
